


Golden Boy

by justanothermaniac



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 06:52:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19371586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanothermaniac/pseuds/justanothermaniac
Summary: The flames are rising around him, it smells of gasoline and death. He's stomping on Uncle Zack's skull, hears the crack, laughs louder.





	Golden Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, I should probably explain this. Ya'll know Shameless, right? Of course you do. Anyway, a few months ago, I started re-watching cuz its one of my favorite shows and I kinda took the inspiration for this one from the show. Y'know how the Gallaghers often just party and have fun despite how dysfunctional they are (*cough* thank you, Frank and Monica)? Welllll, my brain was like...what IF?
> 
> I'm honestly not sure if it could've worked like this. I mean, Frank Gallagher is an asshole but still a fun guy to be around and he genuinely loves his kids (most of the time), while I believe Lila and Zack to be too despicable to be able to act like this towards the boys even just once a year. However, at the same time, I kinda enjoy the thought. Especially since it's an opportunity to show Miah's inner darkness, or at least, I took it as such.
> 
> Aaanyway, I hope you lovelies enjoy this, let me know what you think! Byeee ~
> 
> \- jam (you can all just call me that by the way cuz that's my JAM. ...okay, yeah, I'll, I'll just see myself out.)

Jeremiah is sitting next to Jerome on the bench, watching with a smile as he interacts with the other people of the circus. They're having their yearly get-together, several tables and benches are lined up, there's lots of food and booze and for once, the mood is light and everyone is having a good time.

Well, not everyone per say.

Jeremiah tries to keep his focus on Jerome, Jerome's laugh, Jerome's eyes lighting up, Jerome being happy. Jerome is a social butterfly and he loves these gatherings, he always makes them his own like the showman he is and Jeremiah loves watching him, it makes his heart swell.

He has to focus on Jerome because every other aspect of these get-togethers makes him want to retch. It's too loud, it smells like alcohol and cigarettes, everyone is so drunk and _touchy,_ it's disgusting.

But the worst part is the pretending.

Uncle Zack is sitting at the far end of the table, his words already more of a drunken slur than anything else. He holds his glass out to them and while Jerome returns the gesture with his own glass, Jeremiah only forces a small smile. His stomach churns painfully. "Yo, Jerome! Get the kid to loosen up a little", their uncle demands and Jerome throws his head back with a laugh. "Been trying all my life, Unc!" Jeremiah blushes and glares at Jerome, who wraps an arm around his shoulders, squeezing. "Come on, baby bro. Once a year he doesn't try to bash my head in and makes sure my Jack 'n Coke doesn't run dry. If that's not a reason to get along, I don't know what is!"

_You shouldn't want to get along. You should want him dead. I want him dead._

"I'm happy that you're happy", Jeremiah says honestly, trying not to sound too strained, leaning into the one-armed embrace. "But you know I hate these gatherings..." The older twin sighs, pressing a kiss to Jeremiah's temple. "I know, Miah. We won't stay much longer, okay? But I really don't wanna leave yet. I mean, check out mommy dearest." He points at Lila, smirking and Jeremiah follows his gaze. Their mother and Owen are shotgunning beers and the Lloyd is hilariously failing. His cheeks flushed, he's already swaying and obviously fighting the urge to vomit while Lila reaches for the next beer, earning a round of applause. "Show 'em the Valeska spirit, mom!", Jerome yells at her with a grin and she winks at him, ramming her pocket knife in the bottom of the can before pressing her lips to the opening.

Jeremiah is watching her and he can feel his eye twitch. Even Lila seems like a different person at these gatherings and especially tonight she's blooming with laughter and kindness, a rare thing for any of them to witness. Of course she's drunk of her ass and the twins both know she won't be coming home with them, but for once, it's actually alright. At least to Jerome.

Jeremiah hates this, he hates it all, pretending, make-believe. Their uncle and mother are using these yearly gatherings to act like they're just a normal, slightly dysfunctional family and the worst part is, Jerome always plays along. Jeremiah doesn't understand why.

Jerome is the one who takes most of the abuse, has taken most of the abuse since early childhood. He should be the last one wanting to play nice with his tormentors.

It makes Jeremiah angry.

Lila's finished the can and bows before the crowd, prancing towards her sons, wrapping an arm around each of them and Jeremiah holds his breath at the nauseating stench. Cheap alcohol and cigarettes. He should be used to it by now but it always makes him feel sick when Lila is up close.

Lila presses a kiss to Jeremiah's cheek, then to Jerome's. "My beautiful boys", she coos, and Jeremiah thinks he's actually going to vomit. "Ya havin' a good time? You deserve it, you've both been so busy, Miah with his courses and you, Jerome, always working so hard around the circus. Mommy's so proud of her babies." "Fuck, you're wasted", Jerome says with a laugh and Jeremiah feels the urge to shake him, make him stop pretending. The older twin points towards Owen who is currently puking his guts out behind a trailer. "Not bad, momsie. How 'bout ya go against me next?", Jerome says cheekily. Lila throws her head back with a laugh and it's eerily similar to what Jerome likes to do. It makes Jeremiah shudder. "You're sixteen, baby, ya shouldn't be drinking at all, let alone challenge _me."_

She ruffles Jerome's hair. Jeremiah wants to bite her fingers off. "How many of those ya had?", she asks pointing at the Jack 'n Coke. "Three and they just keep comin'", Jerome says in mock confusion, making Lila laugh again. "I should kick my brother's ass, getting my underage sons drunk."   _Don't act like you give a shit,_ Jeremiah wants to hiss but he keeps his mouth shut. Jerome is having a good time, Jeremiah won't be the one to ruin that for him.

Jerome shrugs, grinning in Jeremiah's direction now. "Don't worry about the golden boy. All he's having is coke without Jack." Jeremiah scowls at that, lowering his gaze to the table. He feels Lila's hand in his own hair now and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose. His scalp feels like it's burning where her fingers are scratching it. It's supposed to be a gentle gesture but every time Lila touches him, he wants to shrink away.

Every time Lila touches Jerome, he wants to tear her apart limb by limb.

"Go ahead, Miah dear, have a drink with your family!", Lila says right next to his ear and Jerome chimes in, clearly very amused by the whole thing. "Yeah, _Miah dear,_ don't be such a buzzkill!"

_Buzzkill?!_

Jeremiah stands up. He doesn't turn around to look at either of them. "If you'll excuse me", he says, his voice very near to robotic, no trace of humanity in it, "I'll be going home." He turns around without another word, ignoring how Jerome calls after him ("Miah, come on! I was kidding!"), closing his hands to fists and opening them again, over and over to try and relieve the urge inside of him. The urge to destroy. The urge to hurt. The urge to -!

_Stop. You're not going there. Breathe. Just breathe._

He wants to burn it all down. The whole gathering, the whole fucking circus. He's going to get some gasoline and spill it over the buffet, over Uncle Zack, over _Lila_ and he'll watch them burn, he'll listen to them screaming as their flesh is burned off their bones, there will be blood and the stench will be nauseating but not as bad as the booze and the cigarettes, Jeremiah will inhale deeply and hold it, let the smell spread through his body and once he exhales, he'll smile because they're dead, _they're all dead._

"Miah! Hey, look at me when I'm talking to you!" He feels the hand around his wrist before he even realizes the voice belongs to his twin. Jeremiah swirls around and grabs Jerome by his collar, getting in his face. The older twin gasps, not in fear, but in surprise.

Jeremiah's fingers are trembling where he's grasping Jerome's shirt. Jerome's grip on his wrist has loosened, so now he's using both hands, staring his brother down with a stone-hard expression.

Jerome lifts his hands in surrender. "Miah", he says softly, his expression warm and tender, "calm down. It's just lil ol' me." Jeremiah doesn't slack his grip in the slightest. His chest has closed up and he has trouble breathing, Jerome's face is flashing before his eyes, joined by other images that Jeremiah knows are just in his head but for the moment, they're real.

_Flames. Blood. Screaming. Their mother's flesh burnt black. Laughter. Jeremiah's laughter._

Jerome's fingers are around his wrists now, his thumbs rubbing over Jeremiah's skin. "Baby bro, you're here with me. Only me", he says in the same tone and Jeremiah tries to focus on his twin's face but he can't.

_The flames are rising around him, it smells of gasoline and death. He's stomping on Uncle Zack's skull, hears the crack, laughs louder._

"The flames ain't real, Miah. You're not there anymore. You're here with me. Just Jeremiah and Jerome. Just Jerome and Jeremiah."

_Just us. Just US._

Jeremiah is blinking rapidly and notices he's shaking. His limbs hurt and he gasps for breath. Has he stopped breathing? For how long? He lifts his trembling fingers to his face. His cheeks are wet. Why are his cheeks wet? And why does his chest hurt?  
His sight is swimming but he can make out ginger hair, a pale face, a face that matches his own. "Jerome..?", he asks and his voice is so feeble, so meek. He's confused, he's scared, he's...he doesn't know. Jeremiah doesn't know what he's feeling, Jeremiah hates _not knowing_ things. "Jerome, what...what...I don't...I'm..."

His lungs are closing up again, Jeremiah is trying to breathe but he can't, he's _choking._ Panic awakens and he falls to his knees, tugging on his own hair, trying to keep himself from floating away. _Why does this keep happening?_

He feels Jerome's fingers around his wrists. "Miah. Eyes on me. Only me." Jeremiah obeys but he can't _see,_ his vision is blurry like when he's not wearing his glasses but he can feel them on his nose. _Why can't I see Jerome?_  
The older twin pries Jeremiah's hands off and takes them in his own. "Deep breaths now, baby bro. Can you do that for me?" He shows him how. "In. Out. In. Out."

Jeremiah tries to match his brother's steady breathing, slowly filling his lungs with air. They take it in and release it again, slowly becoming less tight. "Good. Very good, baby brother. Now look at our hands. Can you see them?" Jeremiah blinks, once, twice, three times. His vision focuses and he sees their hands, intertwined right in front of his face. He nods, his heartbeat slowing down. _Our hands. Those are our hands._

Jerome hums in approval and the sound makes Jeremiah's chest feel warm. "Now lean your forehead against them. See?" Jeremiah feels his twin's forehead against his knuckles. "Like that. Can you do that, Miah?" Jeremiah tries. He feels Jerome's knuckles against his forehead and closes his eyes. "Perfect", Jerome whispers, "you're doing amazing, baby bro. Now tell me where we are."

"The...circus...", Jeremiah croaks and he feels Jerome nod against their hands. "That's right. What day is it?" "The yearly gathering behind the chuck wagon." Jeremiah's chest tightens again and he hears Uncle Zack's rumbling laugh, sees Lila wrap her arm around Jerome and _fire, blood, laughter, kill them, kill them all, burn it all, put an end to it._

"Are you there, Miah? Are you at the chuck wagon?"

Why is Jerome asking that? He's right here with him, he's -!

 _I'm with Jerome. I left._ "N-no", Jeremiah gasps out, taking a deep breath to keep his lungs from closing up completely. "I'm here. We're...we're almost back a-at the trailer..." "Who is we?"

Jeremiah closes his eyes. "You. Me. Jerome. Jeremiah. Jerome and Jeremiah, just Jerome and Jeremiah, just you and me, just _us-!"_ He's crying now, his body wrecked by his sobs and he feels his brother's arms around him, enveloping him like a warm blanket. "That's right, baby brother. Just Jerome and Jeremiah, no one else." Jerome's lips are against his forehead, Jerome's hand is in his hair, Jerome's heartbeat is at his ear and Jeremiah has never felt safer. "You and me. You did so good, Miah, I'm so proud of you. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you stay, I should've expected this to happen. But the flames can't get you now. I'm here, baby brother, I'll always be here and that's all that matters."

Jerome tightens his hold around the younger twin, nuzzling his hair. "Fuck them all. There's just us. You and me. Jerome and Jeremiah."

Jeremiah clings to his brother, sobbing into his chest. His limbs are hurting, his head is pounding, his heart is aching but he's _safe._ He's with Jerome. He's always safe with Jerome. The flames will never get him here.

_Jerome has his own demons. They'll get him, they'll pull him away from Jeremiah and then the flames will eat his flesh and devour his soul._


End file.
